by S. H. Jucha
“Speaking of nests, Willem,” Alex said. “What about the seven queens who didn’t attend?”
After Nyslara replied, Willem said, “According to Nyslara, their cooperation isn’t expected to be a problem. The seven will accede to the will of the thirty-four or they will not live.”
“Not exactly democratic,” Alex murmured.
Alex watched and waited for Julien to nod his acceptance of the explanation before he replied.
Nyslara saw Dassata glance at one of his close companions, and he tentatively fingered the area of shaved fur on his head. So she called a break to the Fissla, allowing the Dischnya and Harakens to enjoy a midday meal. Strangely, as Dassata and his soma trooped back to the central ship, a vast number of the Harakens remained where they stood. Nessila’s heat was fierce, but they seemed undisturbed by that.
“Why does Willem not have a scent?” Posnossa asked Nyslara, as the queens lay down to enjoy a small meal and sips of cool water.
“That’s still an alien mystery,” Nyslara replied. “The one who is the closest advisor to Dassata, the one who stood behind him this morning and is called Julien, doesn’t have a scent either.”
“And gaze on those who stand in the field,” Sissya said. “They stand as if they’re staked upright.”
“And they endure Nessila’s heat without a sip of water,” Posnossa added.
“Are they a lesser soma to the Harakens?” Homsaff asked.
“When I was taken to the ship above,” Nyslara replied, “Dassata treated each of his soma equally. I don’t know who the ones are who have no scent, but they’re valued by Dassata.”
Nyslara kept to herself the odd discussion she had with Pussiro just before the Haraken captives were returned to their soma. Pussiro reported that although Willem had been careful to hide it, he neither ate nor drank nor eliminated waste during the entire time he was captive.
“How is that possible?” Nyslara had asked.
“This is what Simlan and Hessan report, and they’re convinced of its truth.”
“We won’t speak of this to the other queens, Commander. The aliens are strange enough without the queens thinking that some things the aliens are capable of doing don’t bear any resemblance to their soma’s habits.”
As the Fissla reconvened, Nyslara began with a question for Alex.
Willem looked at Alex and displayed a calm, relaxed smile, but he sent,
“Dassata hasn’t decided that,” Willem replied diplomatically, and, much to his relief, the queens accepted that answer.
Nyslara made another statement and several queens chimed in.
Willem smiled cordially again at Alex. “The queens you heard speaking, Ser, each wish you to know that you’re welcome to build your personal structure at their nest’s site. Apparently, your presence near them will ensure their nest’s protection.”
“First, Willem stop smiling like that when the questions get tough,” Alex said, turning his own strained grimace on Willem. “It’s creepy. Second, time is running short. We have the queens’ agreement to our requests. We need to conclude the Fissla with those things that temporarily satisfy the queens. Let’s focus on those.”
For the remainder of the day, the discussion went back and forth. Alex insisted on a greeting ceremony with the ceena. Nyslara thought the others would object, but since many queens had never met a live ceena, they were quick to agree.
Alex committed to building forty-one structures so that each nest could leave its tunnels and return to the light. In the minds of the queens, they saw their soma learning the ways of the Harakens and traveling between worlds, as the stories once said they’d done. While the subject of technology transfer was never specifically discussed, it was what the queens believed was going to happen.
As to where Dassata and his soma would live on Sawa Messa, the queens never asked the question again.
* * *
The following morning, one day earlier than the queens agreed the Fissla must end, Haraken travelers landed on the plains, and the crew and passengers waited inside for Nyslara’s signal that the queens were ready for transport.
The Harakens, through the ships’ controllers, observed a queen and her wasat separate from everyone else. Emissaries fetched pails of water from Nyslara’s lookouts for their principals. The entire Dischnya assembly stripped and patiently wet brushed their clothing, laying them out in the morning rays to dry. Next, the wasat carefully washed his queen from head to toe, with a cloth and a fresh pail of water. Afterwards the wasat and his nest’s warrior repeated the processes on each other.
“It would appear that a queen doesn’t want her or her soma’s scents to be contaminated by that of the other nests,” Julien remarked.
“Perhaps that has something to do with what the queens were explaining about their concerns for returning to their nests sooner than later,” Willem added.
“And it explains why they can’t be housed together in facilities separate from their soma,” Renée finished.
“The question is this: What happens to the soma of a nest if they’re left too long without the scent of a queen?” Alex asked.
“I thought I was supposed to be the one asking the tough questions in Tatia’s absence,” Julien said, pretending disappointment.
“Do SADEs slow as they get older?” Alex asked innocently. He received an image of him walking. The figure slowed to a crawl, froze in midstep, and then morphed from young to middle-aged and on to elderly. Finally, the image cracked and crumbled to dust.
Alex returned Julien’s last image. An enormous pitcher of water poured over the dust pile and the figure of Alex reconstituted itself, larger-than-life and quite heroic looking. Wind ruffled his longer-than-usual hair in a romantic fashion, and stars twinkled behind him.
Franz cued the Harakens that he’d spotted Nyslara’s wave, and Alex and his compatriots headed for the hatch. The Dischnya were washed, dressed, and stood waiting.
“If Dassata will allow it, the queens wish to be carried one at a time,” Nyslara requested of Alex.
“We have the time and will be pleased to accommod
ate the queens’ request,” Alex replied to Nyslara. “There are seven ships. Have the first seven queens and their soma board separate ships.”
Willem supplied a translation, and Nyslara chattered to the queens. She’d no sooner finished than Homsaff barked a command and loped across the open space, her soma eating up ground right behind her. The young queen’s destination was the ship that she’d seen Dassata disembark. Nyslara’s lips wrinkled in humor.
“The ships will return shortly,” Alex said to Nyslara, and Willem pointed at Nessila and indicated a slight position change to indicate the amount of time before the ships could accommodate a second trip.
Nyslara nodded, and Willem hurried to catch up with Alex and the others, who were headed for their ships.
* * *
Young Homsaff stood by the hatch, desperately hoping Dassata came her way. Her newly appointed wasat whispered his advice into her ear, but Homsaff found it irritating. She didn’t care if her actions were not those of a queen. In her mind, the Dischnya were about to diverge from their historic path, and she was determined to lead her soma in an entirely new direction — and Dassata was the link to that future.
Homsaff’s heart beat excitedly, as Dassata walked her way, and gestured for her to enter the ship. She clambered up the steps and stopped in her tracks, her wasat bumping into her from behind. The rows of chairs were a great disappointment. While she didn’t know what to expect, she hoped for something more exciting than this. Her wasat whispered she must move, and Homsaff walked along the aisle to the front, passing into a small chamber. Two aliens with heads of metallic bubbles turned her way, and a single huge dark eye in each bubble stared back at her. Homsaff hissed in surprise and leapt backward into the arms of her wasat.
Homsaff’s wasat pulled her backward and took a seat in one of the chairs. Their emissary warrior sat across from him, and the commander spread his legs so that Homsaff could sit on his thighs, allowing her tail to fall comfortably between them. The young queen had considered speaking with Dassata, but that desire had fled. Instead, her mind swirled with the images of the strange creatures who sat at the front of the ship.
Lights dimmed, nothing happened, and soon the lights brightened. Dassata walked to the small chamber’s entrance, standing not far from her, and one of the bubble-headed creatures emerged to stand beside him. Homsaff would have jumped up, prepared to defend herself, but her wasat held her firmly. The strange entity grabbed his head with both hands and sought to pull it free of his body. Homsaff felt her head grow light, and the morning’s meal churned in her belly. Suddenly, a Haraken stood before her, holding the shiny bubble in his hand.
Homsaff struggled to rise, and her wasat released her. The Haraken extended the object to Homsaff, who examined it, inside and out. It appeared to be a shell, like that of an empty gourd.
Dassata began speaking, and Willem explained in Dischnya.
What Homsaff understood was that Haraken ships could see. How this was possible since there were no views to the outside, couldn’t have been more confusing for Homsaff, although Willem stressed it was the ship that saw for the pilot. And she did comprehend that somehow the ship spoke to the pilot through the bubble he wore over his head. But, in the end, Homsaff wasn’t interested in the technical explanations. The Harakens possessed power that Homsaff wanted for her soma. A pledge formed in the mind of the young queen. Her nest would follow Dassata.
When the bubble was again in the hands of the one Willem called the pilot, Homsaff followed Dassata down the aisle to the ship’s doorway and he and some of his soma exited before her. A poor beginning for me and my soma, Homsaff thought, if Dassata refuses to carry a young queen for a foolish reaction. Homsaff’s muzzle hung low as the doorway opened and the light of Nessila flooded into the ship. She was still looking down, embarrassed to face the queens, when she heard the hiss of her wasat behind her, and her head jerked up.
A quick scan on the plains by Homsaff revealed there were no queens and no tents. A lookout’s port opened and three warriors flooded out, clutching their weapons. Homsaff was pleased to see her soma and would have run to be welcomed by them, but her wasat’s sharp barks of command checked her, as it did the warriors, who skidded to a stop and laid down their weapons.
Homsaff turned to Dassata and dipped her head, keeping it lowered in respect and apology. She heard Willem’s words from the Haraken leader — “Long life to you and may you lead your soma well.” Homsaff nodded and with her wasat and emissary warrior in tow, she walked in what she considered was a queen’s dignified manner to meet her warriors, thinking that learning the aliens’ ways would be more challenging than she could imagine. Yet, the prospect of the journey thrilled her to the marrow and made her feel more alive than she could remember.
Julien, Renée, and Willem started to board the traveler, but they hesitated because Alex remained fixed on Homsaff.
“A problem, my love?” Renée asked.
“Watch,” Alex replied.
When Homsaff drew near to her warriors, the Harakens could hear their whimpers. The queen held out her hands to them, palms down, and muzzles drew deep breaths from the scent of her hands. The wasat barked a command, and the warriors grabbed their weapons, yipping in excitement, and escorted Homsaff below.
“This phenomenon must be studied,” Willem commented again.
Alex turned around and gave Willem his own version of a Dischnya smile, a lupine grin.
“The only thing that would make that expression more fearsome would be sharp teeth,” Julien commented.
“I don’t know about Willem, but I can’t wait to hear this one,” Renée added.
“It’s this, Willem. Suppose you study this interdependence between the soma and a queen with an eye to solving the challenges of Dischnya crewing Haraken ships in the future.”
“Oh, that’s a good one,” Renée said, laughing and touching a momentarily stunned Willem, as Alex, Julien, and she climbed aboard.
Willem hastily reordered his research priorities to accommodate Alex’s request. The process created numerous ancillary streams of thought, and he came out of his fugue to find he stood alone on the plains.
-25-
Peace Negotiations
The delivery of the queens and soma to their nests went without incidence, and that freed Alex to plan the next step in the peacemaking process.
Alex recalled Teague and Ginny to the Rêveur, since Pia insisted on him spending a minimal amount of time away from a medical controller and her. As she phrased it, “I’m not about to have you die on me from some post-op complication just because you were too long out of my sight.”
Resting in his cabin, Alex’s app detected the approach of his two guests, and he signaled the door open. His own greeting was interrupted when Renée stepped from the sleeping quarters, uttered a cry of surprise, and ran to hug her son and Ginny. Belatedly, Alex managed to get a hug from each of them. He sat down and waited while the three of them chatted for a bit.
“I imagine you’re here at Alex’s invitation,” Renée said, as the conversation wound down. “Then we better let him get a word in edgewise.” She smiled at her partner when she delivered her last line and curled up next to him on the couch. Deliberately, she sat on Alex’s injured side. In some respects, she sought to protect that area, although the red, raw lines from the surgery were disappearing, the medical nanites doing their job. But, in other ways, she wanted Alex to feel that she wasn’t frightened by his injury — although that was far from the truth.
“Tomorrow morning, the two of you are taking a traveler with our Swei Swee and security planetside. Franz will set the mission shuttle down on the shore where our foursome hid out. Based on Wave Skimmer’s word, a member of his hive should be offshore, waiting for your signal.”
/> “What do we tell him, Dad?” Teague asked.
“That you want a meeting two days from that time.”
“What’s our purpose, Dassata?” Ginny asked. She held back her grin when Alex narrowed an eye at her. “What?” she piped up. “I like the word and what it means, and, besides, everybody’s using it.”
“Everybody isn’t using it,” Alex strenuously objected, but when he glanced at Renée, his partner deliberately looked away. “Everyone?” he asked dubiously.
“Well, maybe not everyone, Dad,” Teague said, trying to mollify his father. “The Swei Swee still refer to you as Star Hunter First.”
Teague’s meager efforts might have had more effect, if Renée hadn’t burst out laughing and Ginny giggled.
“Enough, back to business,” Alex said. “We’re inviting the Swei Swee Firsts to a greeting ceremony with the queens or land hunter leaders, as the local People call them.”
“You can’t be serious, Dad?” Teague vehemently objected. “Why should the Firsts participate in a greeting ceremony with the queens?”
In the quiet that followed Teague’s outburst, Ginny said quietly, “Because Little Singer will ask, if not demand, it of them.”
Teague stared in confusion at Ginny.
Alex could see the shifting emotions in his son’s face and readied himself, as Teague’s confusion turned to anger.
“So that’s the reason why we’re here. You don’t even need me. You just need Ginny,” Teague accused, standing and pointing a finger at his father.
Renée would have taken Teague to task, but Alex signaled her to wait.
“I think you have your priorities confused, Teague,” Alex said quietly. “I require Ginny’s help to secure peace for this planet’s Swei Swee, and she’s willing to help me do that. The question is this: Are you willing to support her?”
Teague was taken aback by his father’s words. Since he’d first met Ginny, he’d led and she followed. It didn’t occur to him that, in the past few days, their roles had reversed. “Are you okay with this?” Teague asked Ginny, hoping she’d support his indignation over his father’s plan.
